Memory's River
by Ozzyols
Summary: A chance meeting between two old friends sets in motion a series of events that will change the lives of more than one Hero.
1. Chapter 1

Memory's River

Chapter I

"This can not be happening!" Autolycus muttered as he rattled the very sturdy bars of the cage surrounding him. Caught! By the oldest trick in the book! He was the King of Thieves! He shouldn't be in this position… it was… well… embarrassing.

Pride cometh before a fall, they said… in his case, Pride had stuck its size ten boot out and sent Autolycus base over apex. It was Autolycus' insatiable need to prove himself that had gotten him into this mess.

Autolycus' journey to his sad situation had started four weeks earlier in a tavern on the road to Boura. A clearly drunken soldier had started bragging about how King Astrocies had recently obtained the Star of Pia, reputed to be the world's largest uncut diamond. Said to be the size of an apple, the Piaian Star was a treasure beyond value. Kings and warlords had obliterated entire landscapes fighting over the ownership of it. To have it in one's possession not only brought wealth, but a certain amount of awe from one's neighbours.

To hear the guardsman talk about King Astrocies' acquisition of the Star made Autolycus' immaculately trimmed mustache twitch. Visions of glory ran through his head as the ramblings of the guard turned to the state of art security system the King had installed to keep the Star safe.

"He's paid top dinar for this thing…" the soldier slurred. "Nowt could get through the tricks and traps that thing's got!" Lurching to his feet, the intoxicated man stumbled a few feet towards the bar. "The King of Thieves himself couldn't even steal it!"

A few patrons of the bar murmured disagreement at the guard's statement. _I wouldn't like your chances bucko!_ Autolycus thought, as the man continued.

"Autolycus is nothing but a second rate swindler who wouldn't… wouldn't even make it into the palace grounds… let alone the gem room!"

_Second rate swindler!_ Autolycus instantly bristled at the comment. What did this braggart know anyway!

Gulping down the last of the beer in his tankard, Autolycus clomped out of the tavern into the cold night air. Even if his professional curiosity hadn't been tweaked by the guard, now there was a principle to uphold. He couldn't allow a statement like that to pass idly by. Autolycus took it personally when there was a suggestion his skills might be in doubt. If he let comments like that erode his legendary exploits, then people would start believing them to be true! He had a duty to his believers to prove their faith in him – and… if he happened to come away with an uncut, priceless gem – well that would be the burden he would have to bear… wouldn't it?

As far as breaking and entering went, the job was remarkably easy. For all the guard had extolled the virtues of their new security system, the great machine was only as good as its human parts. Automation didn't work if the operator forgot to reset it. For nearly a week Autolycus observed as the last watch of the night grew more and more lackadaisical in their work. Yes… this was the watch to make the attempt on. Now he just had to understand how the system worked.

Disguising himself as a tourist, getting information on the intricacies of the security system was nothing simpler than taking a tour of the vault King Astrocies had set the Star up in. The tour guide was more than happy to explain how the King had protected the precious gem. Autolycus was surprised to find, for a system that had been so expensive, how wonderfully average it all seemed.

Tagging along at the end of the tour as they moved into the great hall, Autolycus' musings on the apparent ease of this job were broken by a ruckus at the end of the hall. Spinning around with the rest of the group, he watched as cluster of plated guards jostled in a tight formation diagonally across the floor towards the door that lead to the throne room.

"I wonder what that was about?" the man next to him murmured.

"Hera's temple was desecrated this morning," a woman on the other side of him said. "I heard one of the guards say they had a suspect under watch as we came in."

"Oh… that…" the man replied non commitally as the group moved on.

The moment over, Autolycus turned his thoughts back to his plans, plotting his next move.

That move was to occur two weeks later at the dark of the moon. Moving as silently as a mouse, the King of Thieves launched his assault on the palace. As slickly as an otter in water he moved through the palace to the vault. Side stepping patrols and traps alike, Autolycus found himself a handbreadth away from the object of his desire.

"Oooh come to papa!" Autolycus whispered

Delicately reaching out, he gently plucked the gem like a ripe apple… and it was at that precise moment everything went pear-shaped!

Through no fault of his own, (the jewel was nestled in a satiny cushion), Autolycus had failed to notice a small thread attached to the bottom of the gem. He even failed to notice the tiny 'plink'ing sound the thread made as it snapped. He could NOT fail to notice the sudden grinding crunch as the thin veneer of plaster secreting the final cage trap recessed into the ceiling violently dropped down around him, triggered by the snapping of the thread. The awesome clang of the cage hitting the cold flagstone floor rang out like a giant bell. Autolycus suspected the sound could be heard in Tartarus… what were the chances of the guards missing it?

As the door burst open and heavily armed guards poured into the room – Autolycus couldn't help but think… Not good!

The Secret – Chapter 1VERSION 1


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter II

"Well, well, well. Look boys, we have a little rabbit caught in our trap!"

The captain's voice sounded as if someone had fed him steadily on a diet of gravel and broken pottery as a child. Autolycus could smell him from where he stood, the unwashed body odor forcing him to breathe through his mouth.

"Open it up and let's take him to the Commander!" the man wheezed.

Deciding discretion was the better part of valor, that and not wanting to look like a human pincushion, Autolycus reluctantly waited for the cage to be winched back up and tied off. A short sharp jab in the back from a guard started him forward.

"Hey! Watch where you poke that thing!" he grumbled as two guards moved forward to restrain his arms.

A quick survey of his surroundings revealed that escaping here would be futile. The room was too enclosed and there weren't enough alternative routes out. Remembering the path he had taken getting into the vault, Autolycus surmised that his best chance for escape would come when they brought him up through the great hall. Plenty of space and plenty of doors, including one that lead to the second mezzanine level and the broom closet with the high OPEN window he had come in through… Picking his moment carefully as they crossed the floor, Autolycus sprang into action. Very foolishly, the escorting guards had only humanly restrained the King of Thieves, so it took very little effort for Autolycus to shuck their clammy little hands like an oyster! Lashing out with his feet in front of him Autolycus used the two guards retraining him as makeshift parallel bars, flipping himself back up over his shoulder and onto the shoulders of the guard behind him. His arms now disentangled from the guards, he deftly bonked the guard beneath him on the back of the neck and tumbled away clear.

Ignoring the startled yelps of the guards, Autolycus sprinted for the stairs. He only had to make it up one flight and around the corner and he would be halfway home.

Reaching the handle of the closet, Autolycus wrenched it open with all his might. It took Autolycus's brain a moment to assimilate the scene in front of him. There, glowing in the gentle bask of a solitary candle was a very shapely leg, draped languidly around the mailed back of a guard.

"Oh! Terribly sorry," Autolycus stammered, backing halfway out the door. Startled, the young maid and the solider spun around to face him. "Wrong door."

"There he is!" a voice bellowed out. Coming up out of the stairway, a cluster of guards with torches and swords raced towards him.

"Nhhhhaaaggghh!" Autolycus garbled and ran for his life. Everything from this point on was going to be inspiration… that was fine… inspiration and innovation were second nature to a good thief.

Letting his instincts guide him, Autolycus led the guards on a merry chase until finally he arrived at the intersection of two corridors, the guards always hot on his heels.

"Don't they have anything better to do with their time?" Autolycus growled, sprinting off again.

There, at the end of the corridor was the answer: an unguarded window to the outside of the palace. Vaulting over the ledge, expecting a sizable drop on the other side, Autolycus winced as pain lanced up through his left ankle. Where he had been expecting this window to lead to the outside courtyard two floors down, Autolycus found himself slamming into a first storey balcony not eight feet below the window. Cursing his ankle, the King of Thieves hobbled quickly away from the balcony.

Moving as quickly and cautiously as he could, Autolycus managed to avoid the heavily increased guard patrols and made his way towards the main gates. If he could just manage to keep out of sight until dawn, his chances of getting out when the gates were open would be greatly increased. Burying himself deep in a hay stack at the back of the stables, Autolycus inspected his ankle to the best of his ability. It wasn't broken – that much was for sure. He didn't dare take his boot off to inspect it further, for risk of it swelling up to the point of not being able to put the boot back on. Rest and time was the best he could give it right now… and time was something Autolycus had.

The remainder of the night seemed to crawl nervously by for Autolycus. But finally, the night gave way to the steely grey of a predawn. The ponderous groan of the palace gates being hauled open was enough of a signal for Autolycus. Peeling off his vest and reversing it, he deftly released the hidden tabs along the lining. Shaking the vest, he checked that the tatty woolen traveler's cloak unfurled itself completely before swinging it around his shoulders.

A movement to his left caught his attention. Autolycus could see a door at the far end of the stable open and a boy and old man started to herd goats out of their pens. Inching along the wall until he was nearly on top of them, Autolycus prayed that the early morning would dull their senses enough that he could tag along with them. His confidence was buoyed by the sight of other doors opening around the compound and workers within the palace all starting to move about. A gaggle of young women sashayed across the courtyard with baskets on their hips as they headed obviously towards the markets just outside the palace walls. Autolycus grinned; it couldn't be more perfect! Blending in between the goat herders and the girls was the perfect escape.

Movement had caused his stiffened ankle to relax slightly. It was still painful if he put his full weight on it, but at least he could move with some alacrity. Hunching his shoulders slightly and limping along, Autolycus grinned to himself as he moved through clusters of guards milling around the courtyard. They were obviously still wary, but they weren't searching people. They must have thought he had gotten away during the night, Autolycus mused.

Autolycus's grin failed him as he came closer to the gate. They were looking at everyone at the threshold. Searching anything that could conceal a man. His eyes widened. He couldn't stop now. He was too close. Plus if he turned and moved away he would draw attention to himself. Autolycus just hoped that the guards on the gate weren't the ones that had seen him last night. He might still be able to fool his way out!

His heart started racing the closer he got to the gate. Keeping his head down in a subservient angle, but watching out of the corner of his eye, Autolycus felt his heart plummet. The captain on the left. It was the same unwashed mass that had been in the vault last night.

"Not good, not good, not good," Autolycus muttered. Inching himself as far away from the captain's side as possible, he could only hope that the guard on his side wouldn't recognize him.

"Show us your face", the guard said.

Contorting his face into a slobbering grin Autolycus pushed his hood back. The guard looked at him, shrugged and waved him through.

_I'm Free!_ The voice in his head crowed.

"HALT!" a gravelly voice called a second later.

Swollen ankle or no, Autolycus was too close to freedom to pass it up now. He started to run as fast as he could when behind him there was a frightening crack and a pressure gripped his good right ankle. His forward motion was suddenly offset by the feeling of his right leg being yanked out backwards. Inertia thrust his body forward causing him to put all his weight on his left leg. Autolycus hissed with pain as he fell face first onto the dirt.

Moaning and rolling over, Autolycus realized what had happened. The young guard who had waved him through had been carrying a whip, a whip whose tail was wrapped firmly around Autolycus' right boot. Glancing up, Autolycus was faced with a sea of steely blades glinting evilly in the morning sun.

"Put some swords on me why don't ya!" he mumbled.

HtLJ – The Secret, Chapter IIVersion 1


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter III

"Does the prisoner have anything to say?" The lord chamberlain asked.

"Not really," Autolycus replied. What was there to say? He had been caught. Autolycus had been through the charade of justice on more than one occasion. It never really bothered him. He was a thief, not a murderer… most Kings sentenced the hapless defendant to some time behind bars and hard labour. Not that he had ever faced that prospect, the prisons he had seen the inside of always seemed woefully inadequate! He doubted this one would be much better.

"In that case, you, the thief known as Autolycus, have been found guilty of attempted theft and resisting lawful arrest," a thin reedy, somewhat shaky, voice piped.

Looking up from where he stood, Autolycus studied the King of Boura. No longer a young man, King Astrocies seemed to almost disappear into his robes. The shriveled old man looked like a child against the massive stone throne he sat upon. Although his figure was no longer robust, King Astrocies was loved by his people. He was said to be fair and just. He respected the law and the Gods. No crime went unpunished in his kingdom and it had known peace for most of his reign.

"Are you ready to hear judgment?"

"Yes, your majesty, I am," Autolycus replied.

"It is my decision that for your crimes you should be taken from this hall to a place where, at an appointed time, your left hand is to be struck off as retribution for your thievery. You will then be incarcerated for a term not less than a year and a day for resisting my guards. So say I! Next case." The King nonchalantly waved his hand in Autolycus' direction.

A small hard knot formed in Autolycus' belly. This was a turn of events that he was none too fond of… being locked up was one thing. He never really seriously considered the ramifications of losing a limb. The loss of his hand would put a severe crimp in his style. His only hope would be that the sentence would not be performed immediately. All he needed was a five-minute window of opportunity!

Pondering his fate and options, Autolycus allowed the guards to lead him through the halls down to the dungeon without struggle. His ankle was still troubling him and he would need all his energy for the moment when opportunity gave him an opening.

Reaching the barred metal door that obviously lead into the dungeon, Autolycus reflected that consistency, was a good thing in life. It gave you a sense of continuity. There were certain smells, sights, sounds and tastes in life that brought back old memories and feelings. And dungeons were nothing if not consistent… The stench of the rotting hay and unwashed bodies… the sight of damp moss clinging to the walls… the sounds of pain and suffering… the unforgettable 'taste' of the food – if there was any!

This above all other things, was the one reason that Autolycus never stayed in a dungeon long. Everything else he could live with (except perhaps being beaten) – but lack of a decent meal always made him look for pastures new. Over his career Autolycus had lived a mostly opulent lifestyle, and enjoyed the finer things in life. He had developed his palate into a finely tuned machine that revolted anytime something less that grand entered its great arch. Prison food, often rejected by the pigs, was not high on his list of luxuries.

Autolycus was led down a flight of stairs to the main arena of the prison. Glancing quickly around, Autolycus saw what he had to work with. Directly to his left there was a table for the guards to sit at, in front of him against the far wall was a row of caged cells with large rings set into the wall. The overall height of the room would have been 20 feet, with a very narrow window providing the only light and air leeching into this festering pit. To his right stood a firepit. Next to it a large wooden block stood. From the shadows behind the fire a grizzly old bare-chested man with a butcher's apron appeared, a vicious looking cleaver in his hand.

A hard shove between his shoulder blades sent Autolycus stumbling towards the block. Putting his hand out to stop himself, he felt a slick wetness between his fingers as his hand touched the block. Drawing his hand back, Autolycus realized why the block looked black. It had been stained by yeas of blood dropping on it. His stomach churned as the old man cackled a toothless laugh and thrust his bloodied cleaver back into the fire.

"Pyros! Got another one for you," the guard who had pushed Autolycus chuckled. "This one is to have his left hand lopped of as soon as possible, King's orders!"

The old man sneered. "Well he's just going to have to wait his turn, ain't he!" Pyros replied. "I have several other 'clients' to do first! If the King is in such a hurry to change this one's name to 'stumpy' he can just come down here and do it himself!"

"There's no need for that," a cool, educated voice cooed from the darkness. Something about that voice chilled Autolycus' blood. "I am certain that 'His Majesty' here would like to keep his precious digits where they are at the moment! Wouldn't you Autolycus?"

The unseen speaker stepped out from behind a pillar into the light. Dressed in the armour of the commander of the King's Guard, the man was tall and broad-shouldered. His very attractive face curled into a cat-like grin. A vicious looking scar ran down the right side of his face from temple to chin.

Bile rose in Autolycus' throat.

"Cassius," he spat.

"Ah you remember me – that's good!"

"I remember I nearly lost my head because of your backstabbing!" Autolycus cursed between clenched teeth and lunged towards the man. Deftly a guard stepped in front of him and rammed the head of a club into the thief's stomach. Winded, Autolycus dropped to his knees.

Gasping for breath, Autolycus tried to focus in his mind. A man's scream punctuated the air suddenly. That wasn't an unusual sound – it was a dungeon after all.

Cassius dropped to a knee in front of the doubled over Autolycus. Leaning down until his mouth was inches from Autolycus's ear, Cassius whispered.

"It would pay you to keep a civil tongue in your head – old friend!"

Another scream echoed through the chamber.

"I would hate to have to subject you to anything unpleasant," he sneered, returning to his feet.

Again, a voice filled with suffering and torment split the silence. Autolycus' stomach roiled. Somewhere, near by, there was a man in a great deal of pain!

"Playing again are we?" Autolycus jeered, still clutching his middle.

Another cry pierced the air – this time filled with something more than pain… determination, courage, grief and sheer bloody minded stubbornness. Whoever it was, he was giving his tormentors a run for their money.

"No! As a matter of fact – this one is legal!" Cassius said, wiping his hands and settling himself down on a chair at the table. "Two weeks ago – we apprehended a man..."

"Really, how amazing!" Autolycus, groaned as he got to his feet

"…a thief… like yourself!" Cassius poured himself a wine from a glazed pottery urn. "Hera's temple has been subject to several raids and attacks recently. We happened to catch them in the act one-day – the girl got away but we managed to detain her partner. He hindered my men long enough by desecrating Hera's temple, we can't have that now can we? What sort of precendent would that set?"

_A damn fine one if you ask me_, Autolycus thought

Another scream.

"Several items of value went missing in the ruckus which we have still to recover. At the moment he is serving his punishment for the desecration and is being persuaded to relinquish the whereabouts of his 'friend'!" he continued, taking a sip from the goblet. "Mmm, very good year."

Autolycus' lip curled up in disgust.

"How long has he been here Cassius – two weeks did you say?"

"Thereabouts," Cassius shrugged.

A memory flared in Autolycus' mind. That must have been the commotion he had witnessed the day he was casing the vault.

"You must be losing your touch old boy! Last time we met, an 'informant' would have given you the information by now – or be dead!"

"Ahhhh," Cassius hissed, 'but you see, we don't want him dead, we want him…" His answer was truncated by the opening of a door to Autolycus' left. The door itself must have been a foot thick, the heavy weathered wood brushing a path for debris clear from its arc.

A bare chested guard stepped through the threshold, but Autolycus paid very little attention to him. His gaze was fixated on the scene beyond the door. Another brutish looking guard stood there, his own bare torso glistening with sweat. A vicious looking rawhide whip hung from his hands. Whips, Autolycus pondered, seemed to be the weapon of choice around here.

Autolycus watched in transfixed horror as the guard suddenly raised the weapon above his head and swung it down with all his might.

A thunderous crack rent the air followed by a mind-numbing scream. From his location Autolycus could not see the man receiving the blows, but he felt for him deeply – no one should be subject to that intense a brutality… no matter what they had done!

"The Gods have mercy!" Autolycus whispered half to himself.

A moment later Autolycus' vision was obscured by yet another guard. The man came across and saluted his superior officer.

"Ah Titus! Has our 'guest' given us the details that we request of him?" Cassius said – a sneer filling his face.

"No sir!" the young officer replied "Not as yet!" Autolycus half hid a smile as the insufferable smirk drained from Cassius's face. "It is doubtful," the soldier continued, "That we will be able to extract the required information from him this session"

"_**Why in Tartarus not? You have had two weeks!"**_ Cassius bellowed. The guard took an involuntary step back from his enraged commander.

"He is on the verge of unconsciousness, sir," he replied "We can not get information out of him if he can not hear us, sir."

Cassius's shoulders slumped in defeat. "Fine!" he said – placing his hand over his eyes. "Throw him back in his cell, we can continue tomorrow." He dismissed the guard with a wave of his hand and then turned his attention back to Autolycus. "As for this one, chain him up in the cell next to our other 'guest'! Let's remind the King of Thieves what it is to annoy us."

***

The Guards made short work of securing Autolycus in a cell. Dragging him unceremoniously into the six by six foot cage, they quickly attached a heavy chain to his ankle, refastening it to the granite wall. Whether by design or dumb luck, the ankle they clamped in the tight fitting manacle was his injured left one. Allowing himself a little hiss of pain as it snapped shut, he waited for the guards to retreat. Then his mind started working immediately. He had no idea just how much longer he was going to be able to do math divisible by ten if the butcher was any good at his job. After locking him in the cell, two of the guards left the main arena back up the stairs to the palace. The remaining two guards sat down at the table Cassius had lounged at and started pouring themselves a goblet of wine.

Feigning cowardice and curling himself into a semi foetal position, Autolycus quickly took stock of his situation. He figured it would take him about twenty minutes to get free of the cells. Less time if the guards left or he could distract them. While he was mulling the plan over in his head, the door to the interrogation room ominously creaked open once more, drawing the attention of the two guards. The brute of a man he had seen earlier through the open door, and the guard known as Titus came into the holding area, a limp form dragging between them. Autolycus could only surmise it was the poor wretch he had heard earlier.

Through lowered lashes, Autolycus studied the man, his brows knitting themselves together in shock and disgust. It was a miracle the man had survived as long as he had! What clothing he had was tattered beyond recognition – his dignity only being preserved by what Autolycus could only assume had been some sort of trousers. The few filthy tatters that covered his upper body were so shredded and bloodied that their original form was only a distant memory in a tailor's eye.

Nothing about the man was identifiable any more. His hair colour was indiscernible, just a matted mess littered with mouldy straw and other refuse from the cell floor. All features that could be seen of his face were red, blue or yellow and swollen beyond recognition.

"Open up for us," Titus instructed one of the other guards, as the prisoner's head flopped forward, limp like a child's discarded doll.

With a steely clang, the guard opened the cell door next to Autolycus' and stepped aside.

Even more unceremoniously than they had treated Autolycus, the two interrogators dumped their victim on the hard stone floor, the manacles around his wrists echoing on the flagstones where they fell. Grabbing him by a leg and spinning his body parallel to the wall, Titus seized the chain and snapped the cuff around the man's leg.

With a satisfied grunt both guards turned to leave. Titus paused a moment and bent down in the doorway.

"What's this?" he said as he rose, holding a small item.

"Dunno," his companion manning the door replied

"It's his," the brute muttered. "He was wearing it when he was brought in"

"Is it worth anything?" the door guard asked

"Not likely," the brute grunted

"Pity – I would have kept it if it had." The guard turned and threw it on the ground, just beyond the bars between Autolycus and the man. "I'll leave it with him – poor sod! He should at least die with something of his own."

The guard shrugged. "You want to get something to eat? They're not going anywhere." A shrug of agreement from the other guards sealed their intent.

Autolycus watched as the four men stomped up the stairs and out the main door. He held his breath as the door closed with a clang and a hollow click as the lock engaged.

With the clank of the door lock, Autolycus sprung to action. He had been given the perfect opportunity. Now to make the most of it. Reaching around to retrieve his lock picks from his hidden pocket, the glossy sheen of the item the guard dropped caught his attention like a candle captivated a moth.

_May as well see what it is_, Autolycus thought.

Edging as far over as his chains would let, Autolycus reached his hand between the bars into the adjoining cell. Groping around in the hay, he finally came in contact with the item the guard had so carelessly thrown away. Thrown away because often, people don't realize the value of an item, Autolycus thought to himself. That was where he came in. In his line of work – it was his business to know.

The item was palm sized and smooth to the touch. Probably some sort of rock. Pulling himself back into a sitting position, Autolycus inspected the item. He was right – it was a glossy green/black pendant, approximately the size of a man's fist, in a loose snake like shape.

"That's funny," Autolycus said, addressing the unconscious form on the other side of the bars. "You don't see many of these." He pointed at the pendant. "In fact, I can say that I have only ever come across one other like it…"

The sentence died on Autolycus' lips, a dread certainty gripping his heart like a vise. With a flash of insight as bright as Zeus's lightning bolts, Autolycus dove for the bars trying to reach the man next to him.

"Dear Zeus," he whispered. "Iolaus?"

HtLJ – The Secret, Chapter IIIVersion 1


End file.
